I'm Sorry
by Freckle359
Summary: After their beloved Team member Kutner had passed, the team looks back and tries to figure out, was there a time or even a sign, that their dear smiling friend tried to reach out to them? There will be five chapters, one fore each member,
1. Chapter 1

**This is going to be a Five chapter thing. One chapter for each team member. **

**I do not own House  
**

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_The sun was just starting to rise, the blaring sound of an alarm clock singing out the morning music, loud enough to wake any sleeping being in the room. Kutner sat on the edge of his bed, his toes curling a little into the cold wooden floor. His right hand held tight to his gun, his face showing no emotion, the music blared to his ears but he still stared, his slowly moving heart beat, his chest expanding before letting a deep sigh escape.  
"..I'm tired…"_

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No one could believe it. Some even refused to accept it. But one thing was for sure. The hospital would seem less bright without Kutners smiling face. House and his team sat in their office, their table settled between them. Kutners funeral was a few days ago and still, it effected the team deeply. Since that time, Cuddy had gone to long measures to not give them a case, figuring a few stress free days would do them some good. How wrong she would be now.

Thirteen stared at the table top quietly, her eyes filled with unshed tears. Even thou Foremen held her hand, trying to give her the strength to hold down her pain. It was not enough. Her words kept ringing in her ears.

_"This isn't our fault. He Didn't tell us anything, we didn't know…."_ How many times had the words, 'isn't our fault' sing in her ears? How many times had she laid awake at night with Erik, staring at the ceiling, wanting to take them back because for some reason, deep down… She believe it was her fault. She thought, she wondered. Events playing in the back of her mind. Was there a sign? Was there something she could of done to stop this?

Tears filled her eyes slowly, blurring the image of the table before her.

It was a couple of weeks after she found out she had Huntington's disease, she went on an all out freak out. In her words, she slept with all kinds of woman, not caring about the after math. When House had fired her when one of the girls she was sleeping with got sick, it effected her deeply. She had pushed and worked and tried so hard to get back her spot and back onto Houses side. In the end, it worked out to her favor, but the outcome didn't help. In the locker room, she sat on the wooden bench quietly, her eyes narrowing at the marble ground. The patient was doing better and she would live… Thirteen was still going to die. Her fingers curled into the wooden bench slowly, feeling that numbing nerve spread. She didn't know how long she was out of it, but a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Looking up, she spotted Kutner looking down over her with a smile, his fingers squeezing her shoulder. "Welcome back." He whispered, taking a sit next to her. She gave a weak smile, looking back away, picking up her back to place her items back into her locker. "Thanks." Pushing herself to stand up, she placed her bag back into the locker, wondering what she was going to do next. "You going to go bag another chick?" She blinked before looking back down at her co-worker. He looked up at her with an innocents, his stripped polo shirt making him look younger then he appeared to be. "I don't see how that's any of your business." She replied, before looking back to the locker door, her fingers gripping the back-pack tightly.  
"Its not. But I figure I asked. You seemed kinda down still."

"Well when your dieing I'll be sure to remind you to keep smiling." She heard him chuckle lightly before seeing him move from the corner of her eye. "I don't think I will ever understand what you're going through. But I know no one likes to go through them alone… I'm here." She turned then, staring at him with her pained eyes. Kutner smiled at her, his arms open to her. "Come on. Let me take you out, put some food in you and we'll talk about all the girls you banged. Maybe you can give me some tips." His words made her smile slowly, her fingers touching the cold metal door of her locker, slowly shutting it. But turning to him, she gave a soft sigh. "Thanks Kutner." She whispered, her fingers picking up her coat, slipping it back on.  
"But I'm going to call it a night. I'll see you tomorrow." Kutner lowered his arms and shoved them into his lab coat, nodding to her. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow. I'm gonna bring some bear claws, sound good?" She gave a light nod before she turned and left him there. She didn't go home like she planned, she simply went to another bar and picked up another chick…

Was that is? She rose her hands to her face, letting Foremen hand go. Was that a sign? She should of went with him, she should of hugged him. She should of did anything, ANYTHING but walk away. With a tremble hand she broke down and began to sob. The chair screeched as she shoved herself up and rushed out of the room, not surprised thatdid a single person did not looked up to her besides Erik. This was her fault.

_ 'I'm so sorry…'_


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own House, there will be five chapters, one for each team member. **

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Erik Foremen jumped when his girlfriend suddenly got up and rushed out, leaving him alone with House and Taubs, She was not coping with Kutners death and could he blame her? He wasn't either… Normally he would be at his apartment, settled in his couch, drinking his bottle of whiskey or whatever he could find to take this numbing pain, this guilt off his shoulders. But if he learned one thing from Kutners death, it was no one can do this alone. Curling his fingers into the arm rest of his chair, he battled with himself to follow her. Maybe she needed time, to sob and get it off her shoulders. Maybe just a few more minutes… But the heavy weight in his heart told him not too, fear grabbing him. She was going to die as well, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but she was walking the line, the same line Kutner was walking in his mind and to see this… Panic hit him. Pushing himself up quickly, he followed after her.

She wouldn't do it, he knew she wouldn't but that's what he thought about Kutner. Of all the times he saw this man, he always had a smile, always had a joke. Always talked about stupid superman crap or harry potter. Kutner was almost like a child… Maybe that was his downfall. Even children could smile and pretend everything was okay when secretly they were suffering inside. His breath came in soft pants when he stopped in front of the ladies bathroom, touching the door slowly. He listened and tried to hear if she was inside. Relief filled him at the same time as sorrow. A loud sob came threw the door, telling him, indeed, she was inside. Slowly he pressed his forehead into the cool surface, his fingers curling into the frame. How come Kutner never said anything? Why didn't he come to him?! Foremen could of helped, he would of done anything to make sure Kutner was okay…. Closing his eyes, his lips pressed as he thought back, struggling, trying to remember if there was a moment where he did…

The week House was taking his high risk drug that took away the pain but made him feel to good he missed a lot of signs, one being that Foremen and thirteen were still together. He remembered that night, touching thirteens shoulder in a gentle caresses, muttering a joke in Houses expense. A gesture House would of noticed and called him out on. A movement that would make House jump up and shout in victory for catching and in the end, firing Foremen again.. But he missed it, to high up to care.  
He was in the locker room, his mind running wild with questions. He came to a stop when a voice chuckled out, "So you and thirteen still together?" He jerked and looked over, seeing Kutner removing his lab coat with a grin, Taub fixing his shirt beside him. Foremen blinked for a second before muttering, "How did you know?" Kutner grinned before elbowing Taub who only groaned, his hand digging into his pocket. "I put a bet saying you two were still together. Your hand touch shoulder thing was cute." Foremens eyes widen a little as Taub handed over his payment to a grinning Kutner, who took it happily, shoving it into his own pocket.

"Wait… You noticed but House didn't?"

Kutner rolled his eyes, slipping on his normal coat, "Yeah, I know. I'm a bit slow."

"No, you noticed but House didn't…"

"Alright, I get it. House a bit smarter then me."

"No, House is a lot more smarter then you."

Foremen turned away when Kutners lips parted, slowly being replaced by a frown. Foremen turned and hurried his way out. This wasn't good, House was on something, there was no way he could of missed something that small, not his House! Foremen made it halfway down the hall towards Wilsons office when Kutners voice shouted, "Foremen! Hey! Wait up!" A deep sigh came out as he turned, watching his co-worker rush his way over. Kutner stopped in front of him, his hands touched his thighs as he bent panting. "I-Is something wrong?" He puffed out, Foremens fist only curled into each other. "I don't know. Maybe." Kutner got back up, his face covered in worry, but he reached out, touching Foremens arm lightly. "Can I help?"

Foremen pulled away from his touch, turning himself back around. "No, I can handle this on my own. Go home, I'll see you tomorrow." He walked away, going towards Wilsons office. House was on something. But turning the corner, from the corner of his eye he noticed Kutner still stood there in the middle of the hallway, his arms to his side.

But he should up the next day with a smile on his face, even thou House was gone…

Was that it? Foremen opened his eyes slowly, his lips turning into a frown. Maybe Kutner just wanted to help out… Working in a hospital was filled with needy people but when its someone you work with day in and day out, maybe he just wanted to feel helpful. He should of let him help, he should of told Kutner what he was thinking. Closing his eyes tightly, his shoulders shock. "Damn it." He hissed, he should of told him he wasn't stupid, that he was smart! This was his fault! He broke that smile, He turned a cold shoulder to him. He wanted help and Foremen was to busy worrying over House to care. This was his fault! He choked a little at the sob that was starting to rise. With a shove he pushed the bathroom door open, letting it crack against the marble wall. He rushed in, his eyes searching, scanning in till he found what he was looking for. Pushing the bathroom stale open, he looked down at Thirteen, her body trembling, her knees bent to her face as she hugged her legs sobbing, her long hair spilling over her shoulder. She looked up at him sniffling, her eyes red and swollen. She looked as thou she would speak but she only hiccupped and covered her mouth with her hand.

Foremen couldn't hold strong anymore. Falling to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her close. He let her grab him tightly, let her sob into his shirt as he broke down. He sobbed into her shoulder. He couldn't do this alone, he pushed Kutner and that caused them to lose the one bright light they had to fill their office. It was his fault…

_ "I'm so sorry Kutner…"_


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own House nor make any money. Two more chapters left.**

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Taub slowly wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes narrowed at the glass table before him. Thirteen and Foremen had rushed out leaving him with House… And honestly it was nerve wrecking. Houses eyes stared at him, those cold blue orbs, never blinking, searching, burning into Taubs skin. He didn't look up to match those eyes, he didn't speak up to why House was looking at him like that. Looking at him as thou the mishap with Kutner was somehow his fault.

Slumping into his chair a little more, his fingers curled into his chin, his free hand digging into his ribs, pushing pressure, pushing pain into himself to stop the tears from coming, stop himself from screaming at House.

It was his Fault.

He hated this, this guilt. Everyone would blame themselves, they would say they missed the sign, that they could of done something when really they couldn't. Thirteen could cry a river and swear she was to blame but really, she had her own problem, her own death to control to deal with Kutner. Foremen was a good guy but he was their boss, in such a high position you can't make friends with your employees. Foremen couldn't help Kutner even if he wanted too. No… Taub was truly to blame, he saw the sign, even for a split second but he was to stuck up, to worried about himself to do anything. And the way House was staring at him, made him truly believe House knew this fact as well.

Closing his eyes, his head bowed down, his mind yelling at him, telling him he could of saved his friend, he could of done something besides run away, besides taking Kutners credit, besides stabbing him in the back..Taub could of done something… The week he saw the sign, he was talking with Kutner about suicide. Their patient had spent half his time trying to off himself to get away from the pain and Taub had expressed his displeasure of it, his cold nerve for those whom took their own life. He remember talking to Kutner, confessing to him that he had known the feeling, wanting to take your own life to escape from the endless depression, the pain. He remembered to well. He turned to leave, to report his information to House when Kutner queit voice stopped him. "Taub… Your friend…" He turned to looked at Kutner, and for the first time he saw that frown. Kutner stared at the bed in front of him, his fingers touching the cold blanket lightly. "..How… did he get over it?" Taub rose a brow a little. That was strange for Kutner to ask such a thing. "He sucked it up." He answered.

Kutner looked over to him, his brown eyes showing nothing. Taubs brain kicked and a little voice was yelling at him, telling him there had to be something behind it. But he only kept quietly, staring, watching Kutner shift from one foot to another muttering, "Sucked it up huh?" He nodded slowly in agreement before his co-worker took a breath, letting a smile touch his face. "That had to suck for him." Taub closed his eyes a little, turning back to the door frame. "It did."

"Hey, want to go grab something to eat? I'm straving."

Taub looked to his watch before giving a wave over his shoulder, "Even thou that sounds like something I would do. Can't, got a wife, need to get home. See you tomorrow." He never turned around when he left, he just kept forward, kept walking in till he got to the elevator, in till he got to his car and got home. The second he walked through the door frame of his home, he forgot about Kutner, he forgot about the day and the talk they had.

The next day Kutner just smiled at him and cracked a joke, offering out a cup of coffee for his hands. How did Taub treat him? During his mid-life crisis, he went and stole Kutners idea and placed it as his own just to save his own job and his own skin and just like Kutner, he simply nodded with agreement. Taub had left, leaving House with Kutner, but he never got in his car. He simply leaned against it, waiting, his heart racing. When he heard foot steps, he glanced up and saw Kutner making his way to his car.

"Kutner!" He called out, rushing over to him. His co-worker looked at him shocked, surprised. "Hey, whats up?"

Taub pressed his lips, his fingers curling and un curling in his fist. "About… in the locker room.. With House. I just wanted to say."

"Hey, its no big deal."

He looked up to him and Kutner only smiled that soft smile, opening his car door. "Why?" Taub asked lightly, all the people he had known, they would always throw each other under the bus to get credit, to get their earned right… Kutner simply gave a shrug, tossing his bag into his car. "Cause you're my friend." Taub tilted his head a little before giving a soft chuckle, "Friends huh?"

"Yeah, why don't you see me as a friend?"

He only gave a shrug, looking away muttering, "Yeah..." He heard Kutner laugh a little, his arms crossing in front of his chest. "You're lieing."

"Everybody lies."

"That's true. Really don't worry about it."

Taub looked back up to him, a slow smile touching his face. He Didn't have to worry, Kutner wasn't going to spill, he wasn't going to run to House and claim Taub was a fraud. With a nod, he took a step back. "Great, good." Kutner dug into his coat pocket, pulling out his car keys grinning, "Wanna join me? I'm thinking about hitting a bar on my way home. A night cap so to speak. Gives us a chance to start up this fake friendship of ours." Taub felt something cold run down his spine but he slowly shock his head. "No, its been a long day. I'm just gonna go home."

"Alright then. Drive safe."

He watched Kutner turn and slide into his drivers seat, pulling the car door down. Something was clawing at Taub, the little voice was screaming at him. Quickly he knocked on the window, pointing down to let Kutner roll it down. Once he did, he muttered, "Kutner…"

He stared at him with his big brown eyes, his face showing no expression, blank, as thou he was waiting to see what Taub would say. His fingers curled into the window frame, the voice told me to go to the bar, to sit and just relax but he just couldn't. "…See you tomorrow." His fingers slipped away as he watched Kutner give a nod and speak back.

"Yeah. Tomorrow." Kutner gave a wave and backed away with a warm smile on his face and for the first time, Taub felt like that smile was forced. He watched his co-worker drive off, leaving him behind. He felt hollow, he felt guilty… He felt horror able.

The next day when Kutner didn't show up, he figured he got to drunk at the bar he went to last night and was suffering a wicked hang-over so when House asked where he was. He coughed out a lie to cover. Hopeing to buy him some time. He made a note, as soon as Kutner came in, he was going to ask him out to the bar, he was going to earn the friendship Kutner thought they had. He was going to repay him for taking his idea…

But that never came…

Taub felt a wet trail slide down his cheek, bringing him back to the real world. Opening his eyes slowly, more tears fell, dripping off his chin, staining his shirt. Looking up, he saw that House had moved away, going back to his own office, closing the door and sliding the blinds shut. Leaving Taub truly alone. His body began to tremble as his breathing became harder. This was his fault, he was so god damn selfish! Closing his eyes tightly, his fingers curling into a fist, he slammed his palm down into the glass table. Again he slammed, his tightly held fist cracking against the smooth surface. The tears fell as he let out a shout, slamming his fist down again, causing the table to crack under the pressure.

This was his fault! He could of stopped this! He could of helped him when he asked, he should of went to dinner with him, he should of went to the bar! He should of did anything but walk away like everyone else! He was a bastard! His hand throbbed but he only went on, wanting to hurt himself, wanting to take the pain, needing to feel something else besides this guilt. He killed the one person who didn't judge him, he pushed the one person who needed his help. Taub killed Kutner. It was all his fault.

_ 'God Kutner… I'm sorry!'_


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own House nor make any money off this. Just one more chapter to go.**

**This might be a little bit OOC for House and there is kind a hint of Wilson/House slash. **

**Please R&R**

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_'House! Lookie!'  
'I'm not scared of cats…. Even thou their known to take peoples souls with just a simple glance.'  
'ooooOOOHH! Green pea! I get it!'_

House touched the glass surface of his office table lightly, his cane clicking as he rested it against the edge. Kutners voice ran threw his mind, his child like manner replying endlessly in his eyes. For days he was bent on trying to figure out how Kutner died, believed he was killed, believe it was an accident. But after the fourth day of digging, House finally tossed the photos down he found and gave in. Kutner had killed himself. He had given up.

What was going through his mind when he held the gun House wondered, his leg protesting as he slowly lowered himself to sit in his chair.

No longer would he look up and see his employee staring back at him like a puppy, a flicker of light in his eyes, waiting for a new task to do. If it ment Clinic duty, he would rush off as thou House had given him a free pass to a star wars convention. His fingers curled into the large ball on his desk, his nails picking at the fabric, trying to push the fear he felt. It was so sudden, so quick. He didn't see a sign, didn't spot a hint and House knew everything.. How could he have missed Kutner?

Wilson had claimed that House wasn't trying to slove the puzzle to Kutners death because it was a game… it was cause House was losing his gift. How much he wanted to tell Wilson he was wrong, how much he wanted to turn around and just grab his friends arm and just hold onto him. Sure, he was half right about his notion. It scared House that he did not see this coming… but what got him the most. What made it hard for him to sleep, was he saw himself in Kutner…

The two years this young man had worked for him, House smiled to himself. Kutner was just like him, even thou when House would be pissed and give any excuse to get away from patients. Kutner would grin and happily run an extra mile to solve a case. Just like House, the mere fact that someone was left unsolved drove Kutner to push limits, to test every theory he got even if it meant hurting his career. But what struck a deep nerve in House, was the mere fact Kutner was depressed. No one knew… It was like he woke up and slipped on a mask of joy just to hide the pain. Almost like House, who simply hid behind his pills, behind his comments. If Kutner was in the same boat he was, sure House had thought of killing himself, to end this pain. To get away from the misery.

Even to this day, he still thinks about the time he dreamt about the bus, when he sat next to Amber. How many times did he awake each morning to a new throb of pain that seemed to be getting worse, thinking he should of stayed. He should of stayed on the bus. But with every morning he got up, he simply took another pill and pushed himself threw the pain… Kutner woke up and shot himself… Would House do the same?

The chilling thought of it squeezed his heart. Kutner was full of life, full of promise, House had nothing… And yet again, another soul that was worth far more then his own was taken while he was left behind to suffer a little bit longer. Why?

Why?!

He threw the ball, letting it bounce off the glass wall across the room. Shaking the closed blinds. This is why he doesn't believe in god! This was why he questioned everything! Why does the good always have to suffer when the bad lives on?! Why did Stacy have to betray him?! Why did he have to lose his leg and forever be in pain?! Why does Wilson always have to be alone?! Why did Amber have to die just for doing something nice?! Why did Kutner have to die?! WHY?!

"WHY?!" He shouted, hearing his voice echo in his empty office. He trembled but pushed to his shaking feet, forgetting his cane, forgetting the fear and pain, he fed into the rage. Limping quickly, he pushed open the back door, letting him glance out into the afternoon sky, the balcony empty. But clouds were starting to cover over head, soft rolls of thunder touching his ears. With a snarl, he shouted, "WHY?!" His fingers curled into his plams before grabbing the cement wall, his voice screaming out into the thundering storm above.

"WHY?! Tell me why?! How many more people are you going to take from me?! How much more pain will you make me go threw before you think its enough?! You bastard! This is why I don't believe you! This is why I hate you! GIVE HIM BACK AND TAKE ME GOD DAMN IT!"

He trembled a little as soft pats of rain drops began to fall. Their cold kisses touching his skin, as if to calm his rage. But trembling, he slumped, falling to his knees even thou his thigh screamed in protest, he was to numb to care.

_'Oh! Can we do a secret Santa?'_

Kutners face looked so pleased, so happy about the idea that House had to knock it back down. He dismissed the silly idea only to turn around and agree to do it, only to end up with gifts from every person on his team. But House remembered the look of Kutners face when he found out about the betrayal.

_ 'I'm your secret Santa'_ Kutner had looked hurt when he found out House had given his name to everyone. A harmless joke. But House slowly realized that the game had ment something deep to Kutner and House… just like the jackass he was… stomped all over it and tossed it into the trash, just like he tossed Kutners feelings. He helped push Kutner deeper into his depression and he didn't care… He honestly didn't care how much he suffered, just as long as he kept coming back.  
But now… Kutner would never walk threw those glass doors and sing out his good mornings… Never again..

"Why him? Why…"

"House?"

Lifting his head slowly from the rough surface of the cement wall, his hair slick from the rain, he looked over to find a sorrow filled Wilson, his clothing sticking to his frame as he hosted himself over the divided wall, joining House on his side. He approached his friend slowly, as thou House would sudden start breaking down and honestly…he did feel like it. "What are you looking at." House muttered, pulling his eyes away. He didn't want Wilsons pity, he didn't want Wilson to see him like this… Closing his eyes tightly, he leaned his shoulder against the wall, letting the cold water of the rain pour over him, his mind joining in the bliss of being numbed just like his body.

But Wilson settled himself down beside his friend, his face covered in worry. House didn't need to look at him to know what he was thinking. Wilson… his faithful friend.. Even thou he shouldn't be. If Wilson was never with him, he would of never lost his girlfriend… This was Houses fault. First Amber and now Kutner, House was a walking accident. Any pure soul that came into his path would be crushed and he would keep on living, with a grim smile on his face. He didn't want to live. He didn't want to do this to another person.

A pair of arms wrapped around his back, making his eyes slowly open. Looking over, he noticed Wilson's body starting to hunch over, curling into Houses. Wilson's arms curled under Houses own, grabbing his back, his fingers sinking into his black dress coat, his body curling down, his face pressing into Houses chest, his body laying half on him and half on the ground. He stared at Wilson quietly for a moment, seeing his friend start to tear up and sob, his arms gripping House tighter, Wilson's legs moving to tangling their legs together… It was like Wilson was trying to hold onto him, as thou House was going to float away.

That's when House saw it. Wilson had the same thoughts House had. Kutner was almost like House and if Wilson was correct… He believed House might just give in as well and leap up and over the wall, finally ending his pain. Even thou House never thought about that idea, he couldn't bring himself to deny it. Lowering his arms, he wrapped them tightly around his friends shoulders, crushing the man to his chest. Falling back onto his rump, they held each other in the pouring rain. Houses fingers touching, brushing those thick brown locks of hair. His lips touching Wilsons forehead in gentle kisses as he whispered, over and over again.

"…I'm not going to lose you too... I'm not going to lose you Wilson.."

_'Sorry…'_


	5. Chapter 5

**Last Chapter. I do not own House nor make any money off this.**

**I hope you enjoyed reading this, watching the last esp. of house, I still wonder what was going through Kutners mind.**

**Please, Read and Review. **

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_'Buzz…..Buzz….Buzz…'_

Sunshine seeped threw the cracks of curtains, letting its gentle warmth touch whatever its light could grasp, trailing slowly along the wooden floor to the sheets on the bed. Gracefully it rose up, as if seeking the body that lingered under those thick folds. A soft sigh escaped threw the wrinkled fabrics, a steady hand slipping out to touch the screaming alarm, grabbing it, letting music begin to sing, taking away the silence in the room.

The sounds of russeling sheets muttered as they began to rise and slowly slip off a pair of bare shoulders, the cold thick fabrics brushing along their owners arms, laying in a heap at his lap. Sleepy eyes stared at the head board of his bed, waiting for his vision to focus before moving, hands trailing along the mattress, helping him guide to the edge. Feet touched the cold wooden floor slowly, hands touching a sleepy face, rubbing those sensitive eyes, shocking his skin to wake.

Kutner stared out into his living room, waiting for his body to wake up completely. Glancing, his brown eyes softened at the time. 8:00 A.M. Just like every day… Those orbs glanced back, watching the light slowly creep its way along the floor to his couch.

First, he would get up and start a pot of coffee. A shower while it brews, hot water to get his energy up. Shave, brush teeth, get dress, he would pour himself a nice mug of coffee and drink it with a bowl of cereal while he watched the news or cartoon depending on what was playing. Once full, he would put his dishes in the sink, planning to clean them when he got home that night. Grabbing his lab coat, he would grab his back pack, check for his keys and before he walked out the door, he would stop and looked at a mirror that hung next to his door frame.

He would stare at himself, seeing those frown lines, seeing the pain, seeing the unshed tears he wanted to fall. But with a hand on the door, Kutner would close his eyes, take a slow deep breath and when they opened, a smile would touch his lips all emotions, aside from his joy and energy, the innocence's replacing the empyiness. It was like he slipped a mask on every time he stepped out the door. With his smile in place, Kutner would open the door and leave for work, walking through another day as thou it was like nothing to him.

But today, he didn't feel like getting up. He didn't feel like a cup of coffee. He didn't feel like getting dress at all. How many times had he done this? How many times did he sit on the edge of his bed and think about ending this. This feeling inside of him. It ate at him, it whispered to him. No matter what he did, he couldn't get rid of it. Half the time he wanted to curl up and cry and the others… he wanted to sit in the bathtub in his apartment and just cut it away, just watch the blood of his depression seep out from his sink in till he could feel nothing at all.

But those days he would sit for at least ten minutes, thinking about it. Thinking he should do it…

How many times?

How many times did he hold his gun in his hand and tease himself, touching the cold metal barrel to his temple, his finger trembling at the trigger. How many times did he bust down into tears and fling the gun away. He was depressed, he wanted it to end but he didn't want to kill himself and for that mere fact. He kept going. Hoping that somehow, someway he would be happy.

He would get up after those days and go to work and act as thou nothing ever happened. He made himself smile, he forced joked and made everyone believe he didn't have a care in the world and that ate at him.

No one cared about him, He hated thinking these thoughts. To feel this sudden urge to end it, he just wanted someone… just one person to reach out and take his hand and tell him he'll be okay. To sit next to him on his bed and take the gun from his hand, take this empty feeling from his chest and replace it with the real joy he hated faking.

A sad smile touched his lips when he remembered, his fingers curling into his knees. He had reached out to thirteen. He had tried to be next to her when she found out she would die, offering her anything to make her happy and she didn't care for him. He didn't blame her… But somehow, she had Foremen to lean on and get strength from and that left Kutner feeling alone… Perhaps he thought since she was going to die, she might understand what he felt, perhaps they could of helped each other… He asked her to dinner in hope that he could confess to her his fear and the loneliness. But she only declined and left him. He shouldn't be mad, honestly he wasn't. But he felt more empty, like with every decline he got, another chip at his strength to go on was taken away.

He thought he was getting better. That this empty feeling, this distress was finally going away. He remembered that day. Taub had walked right out of the locker room after taking the credit for Kutners ideas and he let him. Why bother correct? It didn't mean anything anymore… But when he turned to look at House, his mentor, his boss. House rose a brow and spoke,

'_Why did you let him take credit for your ideas?'_

Kutners eyes widen a little before he stuttered to an excuse. But he should of known better. House knew everything. His chest had a sudden rush of heat when House gave him a simple nod and soft smile, muttering to Kutner, as thou his voice, Houses words were only for his ears.

_ 'Rat pee… Really good idea.'_

Kutner stood in the locker room for minutes after House left. His heart was beating a mile a minute. His face broke out into a true smile. His fingers curled into his coat and for the first time in months, he felt just like he acted. Throwing his arms in the air, he yelled 'Yes!', even going to as far as doing a stupid victory dance. Picking up his bag, his cheeks began to protest from his grin but he didn't care, the sweet burn on his face was worth the praise House gave him. At that moment, Kutner believed he would get over this depression. He had a meaning, he had something. House was respecting him, and soon Kutners life would be okay.

But it all ended and the pride, the joy he felt was wiped away clean. Driving home, his thoughts ran through his mind, images flashing. Taub had told him, basicly, they were not friends… Kutner had thought all his co-workers were his friends. Since he had gotten this job, he had moved and could only call his old high school buddies and go to conventions in order to see them… But the hours, the need to save one life after another cut into his alone time and he was left with no friends… That didn't help his depression.

But the simple thought that his co-workers were his friends. The little hope he had that they cared for him like he did for them, was put out like a gust of wind to a flickering flame. He had no friends… True friends would of seen his problems and would of tried to help him. He was honestly alone. And at that moment, the last chip of strength fell.

So there he sat, like he did every morning on his bed, the 'top 3 songs' playing in the backround from his radio. But this time, when he held his gun, his hand didn't shake. This time, when he held it to his temple, he didn't cry. His eyes glanced to the clock again, seeing the numbers glow.

11:45 A.M.

Not one call from his co-workers or his boss. Looking back to his home, his eyes glanced around slowly, taking in all that was around him. He could be replaced on Houses team. He wasn't that important.

Closing his eyes slowly, his fingers gripped the handle tightly, taking in one last gulp of air.

Besides… He was tired of pretending.

"..I'm tired…" He whispered to the warm air, Letting his head hang down. "I'm…just….tired…"

And with one last smile, Kutner reached out and pulled the trigger.

End


End file.
